Renewing Old Acquaintances
by ReaderRose
Summary: After the incident at Derna, Colonel Kira is forced by Starfleet to accept tutelage in diplomacy from a woman with a mysterious past. For Dr. Ethne Stoker, the assignment goes from an annoying detour from her real job to a distressing situation, as her previously enigmatic ties with the Romulans are revealed. Will Stoker and Kira survive their respective ordeals? Please review!
1. The Babysitter

"Good afternoon, Colonel Kira."

"I take it you're my new babysitter," she said, without looking up from her station.

Dr. Ethne Stoker considered the matter. "That's one way of putting it," she admitted, "but it doesn't have to be that way. I certainly don't want it to be."

Kira sighed. "That's what they all say. You sound like some kind of shrink to me."

"No wonder you don't like me," Ethne found herself laughing. "I promise, I'm not a shrink, Colonel. Think of me as your public relations advisor. Or your favorite teacher from grade school. Take your pick."

Now Kira did look up. "Well, Dr. Stoker, there are problems with both of those roles. I've never had any desire to be a glamor girl, and therefore don't need a public relations advisor. And I don't particularly have fond memories of my grade school days. As a matter of fact, my teachers are all dead. So I'll pick neither, thank you."

_Of course, the bloody occupation by the Cardassians. Poor choice of words, Ethne._ This was going to be one long assignment. Her expression became serious. "Look, Colonel," she said in a let's get right to the point tone, "It appears we _both_ have other matters we'd rather attend to."

"Finally. That's the first thing you've said that I can agree with."

Ethne continued patiently. "If we work together, instead of against each other, this will be easier on both of us. Then we can get back to our real jobs." She said a silent prayer that Kira would see reason and co-operate.

The Bajoran sighed again. "You know, you're right. Prophets help me, I shouldn't be rude to you for my mistake."

Ethne smiled with relief. "Thank you, Colonel."

"You're welcome," she answered, returning her smile. "Okay, let's start at 1300 hours, shall we? It'll give me some time to finish up the rest of this." She indicated a stack of padds at her side.

"Fair enough," she agreed. "I'll go get settled into my quarters. Until then, Colonel." She turned and went back down the lift.

Kira sighed for the third time. What she said to her "babysitter" was true. This was all her fault. Though she had come out on top in her stand-off with Senator Cretak, she was now considered a loose canon by Starfleet.

"I've already stuck my neck out for you once, Colonel," Admiral Ross had scolded her, "I'm not going to do it again. These people," meaning the Romulans, of course, "are our allies now. You need to learn to get along with them. I'm not going to allow you to jeopardize our cordial relations just because you can't control your temper."

The next thing Kira knew, here was Dr. Ethne Stoker, the Federation's expert on the Romulans. Or rather, their nearest available expert. Apparently, she was a former professor at some university on Earth, which Kira had never heard of (and she could not have cared less). Trinity College, or something of the like. At present, she was supposed to be at work on field research.

But she had been pulled from that assignment, and was here to instruct Kira in matters of Romulan culture and etiquette, so that there would be no excuse for the afore mentioned episode to be repeated. If all went well, their sessions would last approximately two weeks. Stoker would give her a passing, if not an excellent mark. Then things would go back to normal, and Admiral Ross could relax.

That was at least Kira's hope anyway.

Meanwhile, Ethne made her way over to her quarters in the habitat ring. She unpacked the bags gathered her notes together. She reviewed them over a quick bite to eat from the replicator.

It was beastly of Starfleet to tear her away from her important work in order to tutor some Bajoran witch. She should have been out in the field, continuing her grandfather's work, and making her invaluable and unique discoveries! This was pathetic!

She was on such an important station, where the Allies tended to meet quite often. Countless ships stopped for repairs, supplies, etc. As a result, there was a tiny fear in the back of her mind, that maybe she might run into unwanted old acquaintance.

No, she decided not to think about that. In any case, the sooner she got away from the front lines, the better.

Finishing her sandwich, she grabbed her padd and headed out the door to meet Kira.

Hurrying across the Promenade, she made a few brief mental notes of the places she wanted to visit later when she had the chance. Whatever else Deep Space Nine was, it was an exciting place to be. There were so many things to see, so much hustle and bustle. And so many aliens! Ethne's scholarly mind was intrigued.

A group of Romulans ahead suddenly caught her attention. As to be expected, her curiosity was piqued. But then she thought she recognized their leader. He was a tall, powerful-looking man with handsome features, who marched with an air of authority.

"No...it can't be," she whispered in alarm. But it was. "Oh, no!" She tried to move off in another direction, but it was too late. He had already seen her. Instead she quickly moved out of their path, and pretended to examine the wares of a nearby vendor's stall.

"Do you make all of these yourself?" she nervously asked the elderly Bajoran woman, turning her back to the Promenade and the passing Romulans. The woman smiled eagerly, and proceeded to tell her all about them, sparing no detail.

The Romulan didn't stop, but she had seen by his expression that he was equally as astonished to see her there, too. Ethne held her breath as he and his soldiers went by. The woman prattled on all the while about how she dug up the clay herself, fashioned it into beads, strung them together, and so on.

When she finally made it back to Kira, she was out of breath and flustered. "I'm sorry for being late, Colonel. I was detained."

"For a while there you had me thinking my prayers had been answered," she joked. Then she noticed the lovely string of beads around Ethne's neck and smiled as though she knew exactly where they had come from. "The Promenade can be a diverting place, wouldn't you agree? Some of those merchants could talk the hind legs off a donkey."

"Yes," she answered, "Very diverting. Shall we begin?" With that, she dived into the first lesson, grateful to that old Bajoran woman, not only for saving her from an extremely awkward situation, but also from having to talk about it afterwards.

Suddenly, Ethne's troubles had gone from annoying to bad. Very bad. This was going to be a long two weeks.

_A/N: I've never written a Romulan story before. Please leave me a review if I should continue with this! I've been reading all of the Romulan stories that have been floating around lately, and I decided to jump on the bandwagon. Thanks for the inspiration, all of you girls! Since the bones appear to have been picked clean, these are going to be original characters. _


	2. Sub-commander Jorek

The following morning, Kira arrived at ops early. If she had to take these lessons, then she would have to start her days earlier than usual, so as not to fall behind in her work. It was only going to be for two weeks. She was confident that she could handle the extra load for that short period of time.

The first challenge of the day was already waiting for her.

"Um, Colonel?"

Kira turned to face nervous ensign of the watch, who hesitated when her eyes fell on him.

"Spill it, mister."

"Sub-commander J-Jorek, from the d-docked Romulan warbird has been waiting to talk to you," he stammered. "He has a complaint. He's not satisfied with-with the repair schedule."

Normally, Kira's first reaction would have been to put him on and lay right into him. But then she remembered from her instruction the day before that such behavior would gain her no respect in the eyes of a Romulan.

_Romulans are more like Vulcans than they like to admit. They admire self-restraint. _Not that she cared, but Starfleet cared.

"Ensign, please get me a raktajino. You know how I like it."

In two shakes of a lamb's tail, he set the beverage down on her console. She thanked him and took a sip. The liquid warmed her insides, and she felt her nerves calm.

"Put our friend on screen, Ensign," she said sweetly.

The Romulan's face appeared on the viewer. _"Is this what you call Federation efficiency?"_ Jorek inquired coolly.

Kira pretended not to understand. "Excuse me? What seems to be your problem, Sub-commander?"

"_We have been docked here for two days, Colonel."_

"There are many ships in need of repair-"

"_A Klingon ship arrived before we did, and their repairs are nearly complete,"_ he interrupted, crossing his arms. _"If I didn't know any better, I would think that the Klingons were being favored over us."_

Kira wanted to laugh in his face. But she didn't need Dr. Stoker to tell her that wasn't a good idea. "I'll speak to our chief engineer. In the meantime, please enjoy shore leave on our station."

"_That isn't good enough. My commander-"_

"Tell your commander," she said firmly, though politely, " that we will get to your ship as soon as possible. That is all I have to say on this matter, Sub-commander. Have a nice day." She terminated the connection.

After a few minutes, the ensign reported, "Colonel Kira, Sub-commander Jorek has withdrawn his protest. You did it!"

Kira smiled back at him. _Looks like lesson one is already paying off,_ she thought with no small amount of satisfaction.

That afternoon, Ethne met with Kira for lesson two. She had not slept a wink. But on the bright side, after thinking all night, she was able to resign herself to the situation.

"I just want to say you were right," Kira said first.

Ethne blinked. She was still so absorbed in her own problems that she hadn't fully given attention to her student.

"And I appreciate what you're doing for me, Dr. Stoker," Kira then told her about the incident she diffused that morning.

"You're off to an exceptional start. I tell you what, why don't you just call me Ethne?"

"Only if you call me Nerys."

They shook on it. "You've got yourself a deal, Nerys. Now, since you've demonstrated that we don't need to review lesson one, we'll jump right into lesson two."

After the session (lesson two was particularly long), the two women decided to go to Quark's for a celebratory drink. Ethne was thrilled. Everyone she had met so far raved about the showy establishment. Its bright and flashing lights were one of the first things she had noticed on the Promenade.

They sat down at the bar, and Kira introduced Ethne to Quark. "Just watch yourself. He'll swindle you in a heartbeat if you're not paying attention," she said, after he walked away to get their drinks.

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that!" he called from the other side of the bar. The women laughed in response.

"So tell me what exactly is your 'real job'? Your profile just says you've been working on a privately-funded project."

Ethne took a sip of her drink. "My grandfather was the late Professor Richard Galen. He spent his entire life working on this undertaking. I intend to finish his work."

Kira nodded. "Yes, I have heard of him. He's the scientist who discovered that ancient peoples programmed some sort of code into the DNA of nearly all humanoids in our galaxy. But I thought the mystery was solved on Vilmor II?"

"So did I," said Ethne. "Granddad named me the executor of his estate in his will. I think he chose me because I'm the most curious of all his grandchildren. I was the only one who was ever interested in listening to his tall tales." The memory made her smile. "It was while going through his office that I found more of his notes. Vilmor II was only the beginning of the chase."

"Sounds big. And the Federation pulled you off of that project? To come teach me? I'm flattered, but really?" Kira rolled her eyes in disapproval.

"The Federation's primary concern right now is the war. All other matters can wait," she rattled off, repeating what she had been told countless times.

"Don't I know all about that!" Kira downed the rest of her glass. "So how does your becoming one of the top experts on the Romulans fit into all of this? I mean, why the Romulans of all people?"

Ethne smiled again. "That's another long story, but I'll give you the condensed version. I had a good friend from third grade, whose paternal grandfather is Romulan. Simon Tarses, he's in Starfleet now. Do you know him?"

Kira shook her head no.

"At first, we all thought he was part Vulcan. But one day after school, Simon told me of his true heritage. I was instantly intrigued, and asked to meet his grandfather. He introduced me that very day. You have to understand that, at that time, the Romulans were still in their self-imposed isolation. Nobody cared about them or their culture until the _Enterprise_ encountered them at the Neutral Zone eleven years ago. Most people were more interested in studying the Vulcans."

"I'm guessing Simon's grandfather became your teacher?"

Ethne nodded. "As you can imagine, he was thrilled to meet someone who wanted to know about his people. Since I was far more interested than his son and grandson were, he eagerly imparted his knowledge to me. The rest, as they say, is history."

"That's amazing." Kira stopped, and laughed quietly. "Don't look now, but Sub-commander 'hot to trot' and his goons just walked in. I _really_ hope they don't decide to come over here."

Ethne stole a discreet glance over her shoulder of the man in question taking a seat in a dark corner of the bar. Her face blanched.

"What's wrong?" asked Kira.

"Nothing," she answered quickly.

"Don't try to give me the runaround, Ethne. You know him, don't you?"

Ethne bit her lip. "Yes."

"Who is he?"

"He's the first officer of one of the Romulan ships docked here. You just told me. Look, Nerys, it's getting late. I have other responsibilities I need to attend to. Thanks for the drink." She stood up to leave.

Kira knew she would get nothing more out of her that evening, so she didn't press her any further. "No problem. See you tomorrow, Ethne."

She looked over at Sub-commander Jorek again. He appeared to take no notice of her or Ethne, but was deep in conversation with his companions.

_Hmmmm, I wonder if he's an old flame?_ She couldn't help but think so. He certainly wasn't bad looking, for a Romulan anyway. Since Ethne was so fascinated by the Romulans, it would come as no surprise if she had fallen in love with one. By the looks of things, the relationship, if there had indeed been one, hadn't turned out well.

Kira didn't want to cause her new friend any more discomfort, but curiosity was gnawing at her. But she was learning how to be patient. After all, she had almost two weeks to get some answers.

_A/N: I'm excited to know that people are interested in my story. I know there are better stories out there, so thank you for reading. Please leave a review and let me know how I'm doing!_


	3. Put That in Your Pipe and Smoke It

The following morning, Ethne decided to do some shopping. It wasn't often that a girl like her had so many varied and exotic shops and merchants at her disposal, as she had lately been spending a great deal of time in the more remote corners of the galaxy. Yes, there was the little matter about Jorek being on the station, but she was determined that she wasn't going to let him dictate to her what she could or could not do.

It was exhilarating to see all of the bizzare sights, smells, and sounds of the Promenade. Ethne laughed with delight as she tried in vain to sample them all. Before long, her hands were full of shopping bags containing gifts for her family and friends back home in Ireland.

She glanced above her and suddenly noticed that Jorek was standing on the upper level and staring at her. Their eyes met. But she snobbishly turned away and kept walking.

_Put that in your pipe and smoke it_, she told him silently. What was even funnier was that if she had actually said that to him, she knew he wouldn't understand the reference. But he would understand her meaning well enough. She had no intention whatsoever of speaking to him. He started moving toward the lift.

_Oh no!_ Ethne had to think quickly. Just to her left was the Klingon restaurant. _Bingo!_ She dashed in. Not that she particularly liked Klingon food, but she knew it was safe to assume there was no way he would follow her.

The hefty Klingon chef let out a loud belly laugh when he saw her rush in and drop her bags to her sides. "Everyone loves Klingon food! Ha ha ha!"

Ethne smiled back, though she didn't quite share his enthusiasm. She took the menu he handed her and glanced over it. Out of the corner of her eye, Jorek was huffing and puffing, though he pretended to examine an advertisement.

The only thing on the menu that wasn't crawling or bleeding was a kind of soup/broth, made from...Ethne though it best not to inquire.

"Yes, that's a popular choice for a first visit," the chef remarked neutrally after she ordered it.

By the time she finished, Jorek was nowhere to be seen. _Whew!_

Not wishing to press her luck, Ethne hurried back to her quarters, where a message was waiting for her. She relaxed when she saw it was from one of her colleagues back at Trinity College.

"_You'll be happy to know I have another lead for you in your granddad's chase, Ethne,"_ said John Riley. He was about her age, with green eyes, flaming red hair, and a round homely face. It had long ago become plain to Ethne that he had a crush on her, though he never vocalized it.

Not that she was attracted to him. He may have been a brilliant historian, and an all around agreeable fellow, it was true. But he wasn't her type. He didn't have enough of a backbone. Besides, she was done with men anyway.

"_It turns out I was right about that Yridian contact of mine,"_ he grinned giddily, _"He agreed to share the information with me. I'm sending it along with this transmission. We've gotten the department head's approval, so the team can leave for the site as soon as you get back. You don't think Rosina will mind tagging along, do you?"_

Ethne downloaded the attachment to her padd. Lord knew what John had to do to obtain that data.

"_We all miss you...it hasn't been the same without you 'round here."_

"Please don't get sentimental on me, John. Just don't," she told him, even though he couldn't hear her.

"_Look forward to seeing you soon, lass."_ Thankfully, the recording ended there.

"Less than two weeks to go," she reminded herself. "Surely, I can survive for two weeks? Then I'll get back to my real job, and my real life."

* * *

The first thing Kira did when she got the chance was to do some checking. Being in charge, even if it was only temporarily until Sisko returned, had its advantages. Regrettably, there was nothing more to be found on Dr. Stoker. In fact, Kira had learned more about her from her own lips than she had from her professional profile. She was apparently a rather private woman.

There wasn't much more luck with Sub-commander Jorek. As to be expected, the files on Romulan personnel were sketchy at best. There wasn't even a file for the man in question. Somehow, Kira had the feeling the Romulans weren't going to allow her access. But there would be the questions. Why did she want to know? What was she up to? Was she spying? Et cetera.

She could always ask Odo, and he'd leap at the opportunity to do something for her. But she decided that it wasn't fair to take advantage of his abilities for something as silly as her prying curiosity. She'd only do that if she was in a serious jam. Kira found herself smiling at how sweet Odo was to her.

"Something amuses you, Colonel?" asked Senator Cretak.

Kira forced herself not to jump. She hadn't expected to see her for at least a week. She plastered a smile on her face. "Senator, how good to see you again, and so soon."

Cretak shook her head. "I don't think so."

"Alright, I never wanted to see you again. How's that?" she said sarcastically.

The Romulan woman smiled thinly. "It's a weight off my mind to know that you are in fact capable of telling the truth, Colonel."

"So glad to be of service to you."

Cretak ignored her mocking speech. "Admiral Ross and I have scheduled a meeting for this afternoon. See that you are there."

Kira snapped her fingers. "Hmmm, Senator. There's a problem with that. I already have a previous appointment." _Learning how best you at your own games_, she silently added.

"Cancel it."

"I'd love to, Senator, but I'm afraid in order to do that, it would have to be cleared with Admiral Ross." Of course, she knew Ross would approve the request, given that it was Cretak's desire. Nevertheless, she wanted to make Cretak jump through all the hoops.

"Very well. Consider it cleared. See you this afternoon, Colonel." Her tone suggested that she had already been prepared for the obstacle, and that Kira had behaved exactly in the manner she expected.

Kira felt her temper rising. She was getting so angry that she realized she could hardly think straight. "Ensign, if anyone else needs me, I'll be in Odo's office." In the state she was in, he was the only one who would be able to calm her down enough to go to that meeting. She barely remembered in time to send a message to Dr. Stoker before she left.

_Thank you, Lorna Winters and H for your kind reviews, and Prizm for your idea for Jorek's commander, whose identity the rest of you will learn later on in the story! Please review!_


	4. What Might Have Been

_A/N: This chapter is a bit angsty, but the story will get better soon, I promise! Thank you for the reviews, everyone! Please leave more!_

Ethne got Kira's message while she was still in her quarters. She hadn't dressed, but was still in her bathrobe, writing notes for a paper on her latest findings.

The doorchime sounded. Ethne felt a knot in her stomach. She knew exactly who it was. She took a deep breath and kicked the doll next to her under the sofa.

The door opened and Sub-commander Jorek walked in. "Since you've been avoiding me, I decided to swallow my pride and come to you."

"I didn't say you could come in yet!" she snapped.

"You didn't say I couldn't," he countered.

"Get out!"

"No, I must speak with you." He crossed his arms and raised his chin, entrenching into his spot.

Ethne couldn't believe this. Or actually, yes she could. He was behaving _exactly_ like a Romulan. "So now all of a sudden you want to speak to me? Why?"

Jorek gritted his teeth. "Because you're my wife!"

"Not anymore!" she responded, matching his intensity. "We're divorced. Oh, but wait, you weren't around for that, were you?"

"Romulans don't believe in divorce." He uncrossed his arms.

Ethne wasn't at all deterred. "Yes, but as you've so often pointed out, I'm not a Romulan. Am I?"

Jorek was silent for a moment. "You still belong to me," he insisted quietly.

"_No_, I don't! And may I remind you that _you_ left _me_, Jorek! I have since moved on."

"I was under orders, Ethne. I could not disobey my superiors," he said defensively. It was plain that her words had hurt him, and that she was winning the argument. "You used to call me D'Alar."

"You already made your choice eight years ago, D'Alar Jorek," she continued firmly, "You can't just suddenly walk back into my life and expect everything to go back to the way it was before. It's Dr. Stoker to you now, _Sub-commander_."

She opened the door. "Leave. Now. And don't ever come back. Don't talk to me. Don't look at me. Just leave me alone!"

Jorek set his jaw and stared at her for a long time. "Alright, _Dr. Stoker_. I won't bother you again." He stopped in the doorway. "I never intended to hurt you. I...I still love you."

"But not enough."

Ethne felt a stab of pain in her heart as she watched him go. The truth was that she still loved him, too. But she could no longer trust him. He had abandoned her once, he would do it again. Though she didn't want to say those hurtful words to him, she knew that she had to say them, or he would never leave her alone. She hardened her heart—she wasn't going to let him break it again.

_Meanwhile, at Kira's meeting, things had gone downhill rapidly..._

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard!" Kira shouted.

Cretak straightened her back in triumph. Kira had reacted in exactly the way she had predicted. She had taken the bait.

"That's enough, Colonel," Ross warned. "I'm sure you don't mean that."

"Don't tell me you're actually buying this!"

Ross bit his lip. "You're out of line, Colonel! Dismissed."

Kira's jaw dropped. Her eyes were wide with anger. If looks could kill, Ross wouldn't have been standing there for much longer. Cretak certainly wouldn't be standing there. But alas, looks couldn't kill, and the admiral wasn't going to back down. She nodded slowly, and then stormed out of the room.

So much for a quick payoff! At this rate, she would be taking the damned lessons for the rest of the war!

Kira hit the bulkhead. Hard. She had walked right into Cretak's setup, and made a complete fool of herself. But she would show that Romulan shrew she couldn't get rid of her that easily! The way to beat her at her own game was for Kira to apply herself to her studies that much more diligently.

The best part was, it was the opposite of what Cretak expected her to do.

_Later that afternoon..._

Sub-commander Jorek leaned on the railing of the upper Promenade, sulking. He wasn't going to get his wife back. He understood that now. She was building a new life for herself, and this new life didn't include him. It was high time he did the same.

He should not have cared so much. He should not have let her hurt him. But he _was_ hurt, and deeply. The tragedy of it all was that he still loved her. The pain from the day he left her was still burning in his heart. Over and over in his mind, he considered what might have been had he disobeyed his superiors and stayed with her.

Bringing her with him back to Romulus with him was of course out of the question. Families weren't allowed on military ships. He had the sickening suspicion that she probably wouldn't have agreed to come anyway. On the other hand, there was her fascination with his people, which had in part led her to marry him in the first place. Perhaps it would have been enough for her to follow him?

Jorek shook his head. It was a circular argument. Only fools dwelt on what they couldn't have, or what could have been. The best course for him would be to forget her. He could do that. He was a Romulan, not some whimpering human excuse for a male.

His eye suddenly spotted her walking down below. The sight of her caused his heart to melt in spite of himself. She was still stunningly beautiful to him, with her auburn hair and innocent green eyes, and that pretty, alluring Irish accent that was like music to his ears.

He wondered where she was going, what she was doing. Then the realization that her business had nothing whatsoever to do with him sank in. In her mind, she no longer belonged to him. She didn't need him anymore. Then he couldn't help but think about the possibility that she was seeing another man. It was, after all, a well known fact that humans didn't share the same view of permanency on marriage as Romulans.

It was all his fault, nonetheless. He should not have left her. Sighing inwardly, he thought, _Oh, Ethne, what have I done to you?_


	5. Secrets Revealed

Admiral Ross entered the Ops area the next morning. "Colonel, may I see you in your office for a moment?"

_Here it comes... _"Certainly, Admiral," she answered calmly.

They walked up the stairs into the small room. Ross waited for the doors to close behind him before he spoke.

"I'm disappointed in you, Kira," he began.

"Sir, I-"

Ross held his hand up to silence her. She clamped her mouth shut.

"You did some damage yesterday afternoon, and I expect you to repair it."

_How the hell do you expect me to do that?_ she wanted to scream. "What do you suggest?" she said instead, forcing her tone to remain even.

"I've arranged a dinner this evening, and have invited Cretak."

"And I guess you want me to apologize to her at this dinner?" She was bordering on sarcasm.

"That's exactly what I expect you to do," he said firmly. "You two need to resolve your issues. This is counter-productive, and frankly, you're making me look bad. We can't expect to win the war while we're too busy fighting amongst ourselves."

"We're never going to be friends, Admiral. She's gone too far for that."

"You don't have to be," he countered, "You only need to be able to work well together long enough to get through this war."

There was no way that was going to happen! Cretak was too arrogant and stuck up—she had told her that herself! _She _was the one who didn't want to work together! But Kira didn't know how to explain that to Ross, so she said nothing.

Ross continued. "If you don't show up, Cretak will think you're a coward. Then she'll never respect you, Nerys. And," he hesitated slightly, "I'll have to follow Starfleet Command's advice to replace you." He had her over a barrel, the _pah-wraiths_ take him! She had no choice but to go now.

But then an idea came to her. There was a chance she could come out of this on top after all. "Alright, I'll do it. Under one condition."

"That depends on what that condition is," he said, though he sounded like he was anxious to grant it.

"I want to bring Dr. Stoker with me," she explained. "She can show me how to diffuse situations before they blow out of proportion. I know I can learn a lot from her, because I already have. I just need to see how she handles actual conversations."

"Sounds reasonable enough. And it demonstrates that you're at least willing to make an effort." He considered for a moment. "I think Cretak is bringing another guest as well, so there's no reason why you can't do the same."

Inwardly, Kira breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Admiral."

"You can thank me when you've straightened out this mess," he said, "And when you've shown Starfleet and the Romulans that you're as valuable as I keep telling them you are."

Kira held her hands behind her back. "I understand."

Ross turned to go, but then stopped. "Oh, and one more thing." He stared gravely at her. "I'm not going to let your personal problems cost us this war. This is your last chance, Colonel. Screw it up, and you're done."

Kira held her breath as she watched him leave. She knew full well that he meant every word of it.

_Meanwhile..._

Jorek leaned on the Promenade railing once again. It was fast becoming his usual spot to sulk. He was beginning to see that he would get over Ethne eventually, but it wouldn't be any time soon.

He then noticed a little girl sit down by the nearby window, holding a doll and a _jumja_ stick. She happily licked the confection while she watched the starships go to and fro. Every so often, she would ask her doll's opinion of the various ships. By her features, he guessed she was a Vulcan, yet she didn't behave like a Vulcan. It struck him as odd, but then again, he knew next to nothing about the way Vulcans reared their children.

She was a darling little thing, and he was intrigued by her. He decided to investigate. There was nothing better to do. Except maybe drown his sorrows in Quark's. But that wasn't an option for him at the moment. He was the first officer of his ship, and therefore didn't have the luxury of getting drunk.

"Hello," he said to the girl.

She turned and smiled when she saw him. "_Jolan true_," she answered.

"So, we are of the same people," he observed, "I was wondering. What are you doing here, child?"

"Waiting for my mother. She's in a meeting, and I got out of school early today. It's the Bajoran holiday of Gratitude tomorrow."

"I see," he nodded. Ironic how children had a way of disarming even the fiercest of warriors. "My name is Jorek. What's your name, little girl?"

"Rosina."

Jorek blinked. "That's a lovely name. But it isn't Romulan."

"I'm only half-Romulan," she explained. "My ma is human. Would you like to lick my jumja stick, Mr. Jorek? Mum says I should always share."

He smiled. "No, thank you, Rosina." _What a delightful child._

Another thought entered his into mind suddenly. He tried to dismiss the notion, but it refused to go away. If he didn't ask, he knew it would gnaw at him forever. "Who is your mother, Rosina?"

"Dr. Ethne Stoker," she said innocently. "She's the best mummy in the whole galaxy!"

Jorek gasped in shock. "Who is...your father?"

Rosina looked down at her feet. "He died before I was born."

"What was his name?" he managed to get out without his voice breaking.

"I don't know," she said sadly. "Mum doesn't like to talk about him, so I stopped asking. But she really misses him. I can tell."

"Do you wish you had known him?" He braced himself for whatever answer she would give.

"Yes," she said quietly. "It's hard to not have a da." The girl was near tears.

Just then, Ethne walked up. "Rosina!" she scolded gently, "How many times do I have to tell you not to speak to strangers?"

"I'm sorry, Ma. But he's a Romulan, just like Da. I couldn't help it."

Ethne glared at Jorek.

All he could do was stare back at her, crestfallen. He wanted to demand that she tell him why she had lied to their child, and why she had kept her existence from him. Instead, he decided it was best to say nothing in Rosina's presence. It was the first time they had met, and he didn't want to risk souring her impression of her father any further.

Ethne took Rosina by the hand and stormed off. The girl glanced back and waved goodbye to him over her shoulder.

For a long time after they left, he just stood there, unable to move or speak. He had a daughter. A wonderful daughter! Ethne had borne his child, but had kept it from him. Yet, he also had to ask himself how could she have told him, even if she had wanted to? He didn't know who he should be more angry with, Ethne, or himself.

One thing was certain, however, and that was that this new revelation changed everything. Before, he had reluctantly agreed to respect his wife's wishes and stay away. But that was before his child was involved. He had missed the first five years of her life—he wasn't going to miss any more!

"'Divorce' she calls it," he scoffed to himself. There was no such thing in his mind. "It isn't over! It was _never_ over!"


End file.
